Chapter 59: The First to Awaken

And so, the matter ended just as one would expect—without the slightest surprise.

It was, frankly, rather dull.

Two minutes—that was the time it took for Fang Ju to be kidnapped and for Ye Chao to report to Guan Junyuan.

Five minutes—that was how long it took for Guan Junyuan’s extensive network to mobilize, surround, and capture the man in the suit, tie, sunglasses, and with a briefcase.

Not a shred of suspense. In less than ten minutes, it was all over.

There were clear images of the suspect, even a frontal shot; the location was pinpointed to the centimeter; as for combat ability—well, it was one man against half the city of Jiangcheng.

When the man in sunglasses realized he was surrounded, he found escape impossible from any direction, above or below. At first, he attempted to resist, but upon seeing the crowds converging from all sides, he was so terrified he nearly lost control of his bladder, trembling and collapsing to the ground like a southerner visiting a northern bathhouse for the first time—shivering with shame, he prostrated himself.

Fang Ju was pulled out of the briefcase.

“We’ve found him!”

“It was definitely a kidnapping.”

“A spatial compression fantasy device—no wonder…”

Soon after, Fang Ju’s holographic helmet was removed. Underneath the round helmet was a distinctly square head. As the man in sunglasses was pressed to the ground, his face full of tragic resolve, he stared in disbelief. “Wait, this… this isn’t the target?”

The correct apartment, the right age, the right school badge… still in the helmet, oblivious to the world outside. In his excitement, the man in sunglasses had knocked Fang Ju out but forgot to check under the helmet.

Who could have guessed it was the wrong person?

And yet, with such a distinctive square jaw, one shouldn’t have made such a mistake even without removing the helmet.

“Of course—all perfection is but a lie waiting to be exposed!” The man in sunglasses sighed from the ground, his voice carrying the melodrama of a shut-in reciting maxims, as if a zealous youth chanting doctrine or a devotee reciting scripture.

Meanwhile, the hunters from every direction—ground and sky—found themselves at an impasse.

Too many people can be a problem: it makes dividing spoils impossible.

A cake split between five is manageable; with ten, still feasible; but a hundred, several hundred? There’s not even a spoonful each.

The bystanders claimed they found the man; the police said they persuaded him; the military insisted they apprehended him. Everyone stuck to their own version, refusing to yield.

The police and the military, in particular, vied fiercely to take the suspect in for questioning.

Then, upon hearing the man in sunglasses mutter his cryptic phrase, there was a brief silence—followed by even fiercer argument.

“This guy’s an Awakened! We’ve caught a big fish now!”

“Awakened? What’s that?” Some were still in the dark.

The Awakened—so these people called themselves.

There was even an initiation poem that went like this:

The world is crumbling, human life a prison.
The sleepers are calm, the awakened terrified.
Better to suffer and live than to die in ignorance!

We are the enlightened, here to save all beings.

Seem familiar?

Indeed, it’s an adaptation of Lu Xun’s famous passage: “If there were an iron house, absolutely without windows, indestructible, with many people sound asleep inside, soon to suffocate to death, but dying in their slumber, feeling no sorrow at their death. Now, if you shout to awaken several more clear-headed people…” That’s what it’s based on.

Lu Xun truly did say those words.

But anyone can cloak themselves in high-minded rhetoric—who in this day and age doesn’t know how to put on airs? Even a notorious assassin can whitewash himself with a creed…

Especially that line, “all perfection is but a lie waiting to be exposed,” has become as much a label as “tofu is X.”

In any case, whether they’re called the Awakened, the Salvation Army, or the Nightbearers, they’re generally grouped under the same label—the Calamity Cult.

These cults flourish in the shadow of disaster, preying on humanity’s innate anxiety and panic, expanding their influence wherever they go.

The Awakened rarely commit blatant crimes, but their secretive, pretentious manner—reciting poems and maxims at every turn—has drawn considerable attention.

To snatch someone in broad daylight, however, is a flagrant violation of the twenty-four core socialist values: prosperity, democracy, civility, harmony, freedom, equality, justice, rule of law, patriotism, dedication, integrity, and friendship.

Such conduct must be dealt with swiftly and severely!

So the police and the military clashed again.

Ximen Qiong was wracked with a headache… a splitting headache.

His subordinates, thrilled to have captured an Awakened, jostled with the police for credit, but he found it a troublesome mess—like being entangled with several women at once.

The Calamity Cult is not to be trifled with. Suppress them in one place, and they erupt elsewhere; it never ends quietly. Even if the Awakened’s reputation is relatively clean, it’s all carefully cultivated—otherwise, why kidnap someone for no reason?

Tsk. Why meddle in Guan the Bald’s affairs?

Wouldn’t it be better to pass the time at a bar, even if the girls there are a bit overzealous…

Certainly better than this—where escape is impossible.

“Boss, the guy was well prepared. Scent tracking’s been disrupted. Should we try reflection tracing instead?” someone reported just as Ximen Qiong’s headache peaked.

Scent tracking, as the name suggests, is like using bloodhounds—except the “hounds” are people with enhanced olfactory senses, giving much better resolution and results.

Reflection tracing is akin to reviewing surveillance footage, but instead of cameras, they check the reflections in strategically placed mirrors along key points in the street.

These are standard investigative techniques.

Getting a cultist to confess is usually difficult and time-consuming; it’s more efficient to trace their path back to its source—one might even find their lair.

“Do it,” Ximen Qiong nodded, sidling up to Guan Junyuan once more.

This was Guan’s mess—he shouldn’t have to suffer alone!

Guan Junyuan was in the thick of questioning Ye Chao.

“This holographic helmet… what is it? Where did you get it?”

“How did you track its location so precisely?”

“The footage captured just now—was it the helmet? Is that why Fang Ju was taken?”

Anyone, seeing Fang Ju emerge from the case, would immediately have such suspicions, even if the connection is unfounded.

Now, Ye Chao, how will you answer?

Fang Ju was still unconscious—once he woke, any contradictions would make things much worse!

Alpha Girl glanced at Ye Chao, gloating but also a little anxious.

Schrödinger’s favorability score—fluctuating wildly, positive one moment, negative the next…

“Teacher Guan, here’s what happened,” Ye Chao said calmly, utterly unruffled. “Last night Fang Ju brought me this helmet. Said someone tried to sell it to him, claimed it could do all sorts of things, and he was curious but uneasy, so he asked me to check it out.”

“I checked and thought it was fine, but just to be safe, I tagged it with my ability, and then—well, you saw what happened…”

“As for why Fang Ju was kidnapped…”

I’d like to know that myself, but it definitely had nothing to do with the helmet.

This mixture of truth and falsehood was a well-worn tactic for Ye Chao.

Higher exam scores?

Guan Junyuan stared at the helmet, momentarily stunned; Ximen Qiong, beside him, was just as baffled—this was not the direction they’d expected at all…

It was like pairing dumplings with red wine, coffee with garlic, or buying a pound of chives at a drugstore—supposedly invigorating, but still…

“By the way, Teacher Guan, Fang Ju let me try it last night too. I think… it might actually work.”

Really?

Guan Junyuan examined the helmet suspiciously. “How do you use it? Just put it on?” The school’s VR helmets had wires, but this one didn’t, which made him wary.

“Yeah, just put it on.” No one was more certain than Ye Chao.

He shot Ximen Qiong a look, signaling him to keep watch, and Guan Junyuan slowly donned the helmet.

“Pfft—hahaha…” Alpha Girl doubled over in laughter, utterly delighted.

Why laugh?

Because the moment Guan Junyuan put on the helmet, his head seemed to lose all its shine. The smooth, industrial beauty of the holographic helmet was nothing compared to the luster of his bald head…

“What are you laughing at? Be serious, this is a critical moment!” Ye Chao forced himself to keep a straight face. “Plan B.”

What was Plan B?

Ye Chao and Alpha Girl had once debated how best to promote the holographic helmet.

Alpha Girl favored a bottom-up approach: hunger marketing, viral spread; Ye Chao thought it would be quicker to persuade teachers and promote it through the school—more efficient.

The result was a tie, 1:1, so they went with Alpha Girl’s plan.

Everything had been going smoothly, negotiations already underway, until the kidnapping turned everything upside down. Now, after all the twists and turns, they were back to Plan B.

Though some technical issues remained unresolved, there was no time to worry about that now.